


Suits

by mintyworks



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Body Appreciation, Body Dysphoria, Body Image, Button Popping, Chubby Jesse McCree, Chubby McCree, First Dates, Food Kink, M/M, Weight Gain, chubby hanzo, clothing not fitting, tight clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 01:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14630997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintyworks/pseuds/mintyworks
Summary: Hanzo has a first date with McCree, and he discovers that none of his suits of the past twenty years fit him anymore.





	Suits

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the folks at Discord for the inspiration, hope y'all enjoy :)

 

Fanart by [SquidBiscuit @ Tumblr](http://squidbiscuit.tumblr.com/)

Fanart Direct[ Link](http://squidbiscuit.tumblr.com/post/173861747921/okay-yall-i-did-a-quick-little-doodle-for)

_Thank you SO SO SO much for this amazing fanart! I am so lucky for a friend like you!_

* * *

   

     _Had it been that long?_

            Hanzo supposed it had. He stood in front of the mirror, holding his breath. He could hold it for a long time, sure. Minutes. Not for an entire date.

            It had already been minutes. His face was turning red.

            _Puff_.

            Hanzo exhaled and watched as an unfamiliar gut flooded forward, filling out a once perfectly tailored, perfectly trim white dress shirt. He took another breath and sucked his stomach in again, managing to button the bottom button of his two-button dress pants and zip up the fly. He released his breath again and dug his thumbs under the seams, trying to make more room in the front of his pants. There was no way the top button was going to clasp, splaying open from the pressure of his belly.

            This was bad.

            Maybe the next one would fit.

            Hanzo felt relief as he peeled away the pants and unbuttoned the shirt. He didn’t even get to try on the vest or jacket. Those clothes must had been when he was far younger than he was now. He supposed he hadn’t discriminated when he had his personal belongings delivered from Hanamura.

            He glanced in the mirror, standing there in his boxer briefs. He was struggling to see where the problem was. He looked proportional in his mind. His thighs were muscular and thick, his chest was broad, his stomach was… _slightly_ distended, but nothing like his date’s. He worked out constantly. It was muscle. Maybe it was just a bit of bloat from eating too much this weekend. McCree had baked a wonderful birthday cake for him.

            _You are not twenty anymore, of course you can’t fit into your twenty-year old suits. Stop whining and try on something more recent_.

            Hanzo pulled out one of his favorites. He’d been debating wearing it anyway but was worried it would be a bit too flashy for Jesse’s taste. The suit itself also had a history – he had worn it during his not-so-favorable acquaintance with the criminal underground. Still, he remembered how he felt in it, the gorgeous pinstripe black pants and the blue and black vest had always inspired confidence in himself and respect in others. This would do for tonight, if it fit. Better to be overdressed, they say…

            _Than have it not fit at all_ ….

            Hanzo blinked in disbelief as he slipped up the pants. There was no possible way! He distinctly remembered how he felt in these pants. The finest material always flowed around his legs as he walked, airing them out and giving him a constant reminder of his wealth and connection as the high-quality fabric caressed his skin with every stride. Now the pants hugged tightly to his wide thighs, and the pinstripe pattern left no curve, no fold, and no bow to the imagination. They made him look _fatter!_

            Hanzo turned to check out his ass.

            _No!_

            Hanzo stripped the pants off quickly and threw them in the closet. The vest would be fine, so would the shirt. It was bulkier, he thought, yes! Bulkier, yes, he definitely remembered it being looser and he definitely remembered being able to button these damn buttons!

            Frantic fingers pried them closed, and only sucking in his gut was getting rid of the diamond patterned gaps the shirt seams were pulling into. The gaps revealed soft honey colored flesh. Hanzo, in his sourness, forced his gut forward with air, puffing out his cheeks, and watching the shirt pull and expand beyond its will.

            _POP!_

            Hanzo misaligned his jaw as the shirt button bounced off the mirror and pinged against his stomach, landing with a soft repetitive click on the floor. Hanzo wish he had lost sight of it, but no. There it was. By his toe. Sitting there by his toe. Mocking him.

At least he could see his toes.

            _Stop being so dramatic! That was nearly ten years ago. You have better suits than this one._

            Hanzo nodded to himself and took off the shirt, tossing it back in the closet with the pants that would never be worn again. He kept the vests displayed on the bed and pulled out some more pants. He struggled to pull a pair over his thighs and hips, laying down on the bed as he tried to wriggle them up. The seams caught on soft folds of his skin. Almost there. He jumped up, hoping the motion would help, but his ass got in the way. Why had he even tried? The pants were so small he looked like they were keeping his legs together like a mermaid.

            His next pair of pants were plain and black. Not his favorite then and not his favorite now. But, at least he could button them. Buttons though, Hanzo discovered, were only the  first part of the battle that was turning into a war. His love handles were spilling over the sides and the tight pants only pushed his gut upward and out.

            Hanzo tried on several dress shirts before finding one that wouldn’t expose his belly one lateral diamond at a time. Very well. He was getting there. Yes, he had a muffin top, but his vest would cover it. He could do this. This was possible. Hanzo grabbed his favorite black and blue vest from the bed and swung it over his shoulders.

            “Not bad,” he said out loud. It still hung over his shoulders and chest well at least. It looked like it would close.

            Looks were ever deceiving.

            Hanzo pulled and pulled and inhaled and pulled and yes! He had buttoned it! And it looked awful! The blue part of the vest on the sides once again betrayed their crisp function, only calling attention to the fact that the line, supposed to cut downward, now splayed off to the side and wrapped around his curvy waist. Worst of all, his belly was apparently so round, that the vest length was consumed by covering it. It stopped a few inches shorter than normal, and the love handles he thought it would cover were a stark white and on display, as was the bottom curve of his belly pushing over the seam of his pants.

            Disheartened, he shed the vest, and tried on another. And another.

            Finally, one of them…kind of fit.

            He pulled on the largest suit jacket he could find, not having time to complain inwardly about the fit or how uncomfortable he was. He was now running late for his date with McCree, and he was not anything if he was not punctual. He’d have to think of an excuse to tell him besides the fact that he’d gotten too fat for his old suits. Hanzo could not think of anything more embarrassing.

 

            Hanzo took a deep breath, meeting McCree at the restaurant he chose. It appeared to be Italian, nothing too high end from what he could tell, but someplace moderately formal. McCree was waiting for him, dressed up too, in a handsome looking dark grey suit. Come to think of it, he had never seen the cowboy wear something other than flannels or t-shirts. He couldn’t help but think about how much nicer he looked than him, and how well he dressed for his weight.

            Jesse McCree wasn’t a small man, no. He had a large gut, but the way he moved around was nothing short of in control and in power. Hanzo hadn’t realized his visceral attraction for the man until he’d seen him with his shirt off in the locker room. McCree had been joking around, his large belly jiggling with his deep molasses laughter. His large hand had slammed him on the back.

_“Oh, you got an awful pretty blush on yer face there, Hanzo. Got anythin’ to do with me?_ ”

            Perhaps Jesse had meant that as a joke, but Hanzo had simply straightened, looked him in the eyes and said ‘yes’.

            That had spun them into a bit of a fumbling mess, but eventually McCree had asked him out on a date. And here they were. Their first real date, and Hanzo couldn’t ignore the tightness of his pants or how uncomfortable his belly felt or how the suit jacket squeezed his shoulders and arms, making movement uneasy.

            “You look great!” McCree said, and Hanzo blinked in surprise.

            “I do?” he asked.

            “Yeah, wow, great suit!”

            Hanzo smiled, melting into his big gorgeous grin.

            "You look handsome yourself, McCree,” Hanzo said.

            “You don’ gotta call me McCree, anymore. Jesse is fine.”

            “Jesse, yes of course.”

            They were lead to booth at the restaurant and handed menus. Hanzo shed his jacket, and did well to show off his knowledge of alcohol, and while wine wasn’t his favorite, he ordered them a full bodied dry red. It hadn’t been cheap, but he was paying tonight.

            “I’ll be payin’ tonight,” Jesse said easily.

            “No, no, do not be absurd! I just ordered a one-hundred-and-twenty-dollar bottle of wine. I’m paying,” Hanzo insisted.

            “I’m the one asked you out….”

            “And you will soon regret it, Jesse, I assure you,” Hanzo teased. “I will pay.”

            Both Hanzo and Jesse ordered the chicken parmesan, and side of spaghetti. Their table came with a bread basket, and Hanzo didn’t notice he had such a fondness for the olive oil and butters that were provided until the bread had disappeared. Surely Jesse had eaten some too, yes? He sipped his wine and they talked, trying to fumble through conversations without talking about Overwatch or work. It was more difficult than it seemed, but they were getting along well.

            Hanzo shifted in the booth uncomfortably, ever present on the back of his mind how tight his clothes were. The salads arrived, and Hanzo finished his with ease. He noticed Jesse was shoving the last of it around noncommittedly.

            “Are you going to finish that?”

            “Well, I was thinkin’ about it but I’m tryna save the appetite, see,” Jesse said, his tone softer than normal.

            Hanzo glanced around before he switched bowls with him. “There, now it looks like you finished yours,” he said.

            Jesse grinned at him. “Saves me from the embarrassment, that does.”

            Hanzo finished the salad easily, feeling healthy about doing so. Perhaps he should think about losing a couple pounds. Not a lot, maybe just five. He studied Jesse though as he shifted in the booth. His expression would be so bright, but somehow turn to a bit of a furrowed worry. It was a glimpse, Hanzo thought.

            Was it something to be concerned about?

            Should he worry?

            “Everything all right?”

            “Oh! Mighty fine!” Jesse laughed a bit too loud, and Hanzo chuckled softly to cover it up. “Everything is great. I’m really enjoyin’ this dinner with you Hanzo.”

            He reached over to take his hand, and Hanzo curled his fingers in with his. They parted as the waiter brought out their Chicken Parmesan and spaghetti. Hanzo took the napkin and placed it in his lap, though it laid awkwardly over his puffy belly. He was thankful Jesse couldn’t see from across the booth, even though he wouldn’t mind seeing that gorgeous mound of his as they started to eat.

            Hanzo started with the spaghetti, eating it much like he would ramen, while he curiously watched Jesse twirl his in a spoon. They both fell silent as they set to their dinner though, something that Hanzo actually enjoyed. When in good company and with good food, there was no need to interrupt the experience with conversation, was there? Especially when the portions here were _huge!_ It was a good thing Hanzo had been hungry. He’d been too nervous to eat anything that day, actually. But now, here with Jesse, all of his worry had faded away.

            Even the tightness of his clothes was becoming a forgettable ordeal.

            Hanzo watched as Jesse cut into the chicken and slipped the chunk between his plump lips, commenting on how good it was, though the words were lost in Hanzo’s gaze. He simply had a way about him, Hanzo thought. Big, powerful, strong, yet, the way he ate just seemed so delicate and savory. He enjoyed food, clearly. He did not just stock himself full of trash. He _appreciated_ food. He enjoyed it. He relished it. Hanzo savored him.

            Hanzo watched as Jesse came up with clever ways to mix and match bites of chicken, cheese, spaghetti, and bread, while Hanzo was far more of a serial eater. He had eaten all of his spaghetti before even taking a bite of his chicken.

_Schump._

            What was that sound?

            Hanzo subtly slipped a hand to his belly and noticed that his pants button had just popped open. He felt along the curve of his stomach and looked to his chicken. He hadn’t even touched it yet! The restaurant would think he didn’t want it or like it. He _had_ to eat at least some of it, even though it was clear his belly was swelling from the bread, salad, and pasta.

            Hanzo carefully pulled the plate over to him and sliced into the delicate chicken. He took his first bite and moaned gently. It had cooled down wonderfully.

            “You must really like chicken,” Jesse commented.

            Hanzo looked up and blushed. “Oh, my apologies! Sometimes the …sounds…escape me.”

            “I like it,” Jesse said, his tone a bit low as if he was embarrassed to admit it. “Was worried about bringing you here. Wasn’t sure ya liked Italian food.”

            “I like many foods,” Hanzo said. “And I’m always willing to try new things.”

            “That’s, uh…that’s good.”

            Hanzo watched Jesse shift again and frown. He heard a soft jingle but didn’t think anything of it. Hanzo returned to his meal, trying to think of something to say to hide his own worry. He’d already asked if everything was all right, and Jesse had confirmed it. Though, something was clearly on his mind.

            Hanzo looked to his meal and set about eating it. The date was going well, save for that, yes? He truly did like Jesse. But perhaps he’d said something foolish or insulting. Perhaps he was not exciting enough.

            _Perhaps your pants are getting far too tight_.

            Hanzo sighed and shifted backwards in the booth, and Jesse seemed to do the same. Hanzo stole a glance downward at his curving belly, spilling out and struggling against his pants and vest uncomfortably. He wasn’t sure what to do about this, except to stop eating – though only a third of his chicken was consumed. He’d have to eat at least half. Jesse was far ahead of him, and the waiter was on his rounds again. Hanzo pushed forward and busied himself with a few more bites, telling the waiter how good the food was. He paused to sip his wine as the waiter bustled off again.

            _POP!_

Hanzo froze and Jesse jolted. Hanzo quickly looked down under the table and screamed inwardly, seeing that his vest button had popped right off revealing his white shirt now folding awkwardly over his belly and exposing skin.

            “Oh _no_ ,” Hanzo groaned.

            “What…was that?” Jesse searched the seat next to him and picked up a large black button.

            Hanzo winced and closed his eyes, shrinking down.

            Jesse started laughing and laughing….and _laughing_.

            Hanzo wanted to shrivel up and _die_.

            “I thought I was the only one!”

            Hanzo looked up to Jesse’s big grin.

            “My suit didn’t fit today, it was awful,” Jesse confessed. “I had to unbuckle my belt like ten minutes ago. I look terrible over here.”

            Hanzo studied him and straightened, before releasing his own oily chuckle. “I had the hardest time getting dressed tonight,” he admitted. “Nothing fit. Nothing.”

            “Nothing!” Jesse agreed. “I kept wonderin’ if I’d gotten too fat. Maybe you wouldn’t be interested anymore.”

            “Absurd,” Hanzo said quickly. “Though I wondered the same.”

            “That’s dumb. We’re bein’ dumb. Let’s just unclasp, untuck, and unzip and not give a rat’s ass!”

            Hanzo exhaled a deep sigh of relief, as if he had _finally_ released the breath he had been holding this entire time. He felt another few buttons pop, but he reached down and adjusted his clothing, freeing his belly from its clothing prison.

            “I bet we look even better, now,” Hanzo said.


End file.
